To The Skies
by TheNightimeSky
Summary: It's after the war and Oliver Wood has some unfinished buisness with Fred Weasley.DH spoilers. NO SLASH!


**A/N:** I always wanted to see how Oliver would react to Fred's death.  -crys- This is just a little one shot on how he feels I suppose.

**Disclaimer**-Unless I'm really J.K Rowling and I've just forgotten about it, I don't think I own anything..

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The war is finally over. The ghostly fog that held us has been lifted, and our world feels so much brighter than it has for years. I've never heard anything as loud as the celebrations that are going on now! I could even say that it's louder and happier then when the first war ended.

I wouldn't know of course. I was just four years old.

People seem so much happier than they had in the past. And why shouldn't they? Voldemort's gone, and those who had been grasping on any little speck of hope or good news for the past four years, now have nothing to worry about.

But not everyone is THAT happy. In fact, you could even say that some people are at risk of staying sad forever because of the war.

That's why I'm outside. On this seemingly perfect night, while everyone is laughing and cheering with loved ones, I'm out here just thinking to myself. With nothing but the warm summer night and a gentle breeze now and then.

I guess I should introduce myself, huh? Well, I'm Oliver Wood, known as the Gryffindor quidditch captain since I was 14 years old until I was 17.

I'm not thinking about just _anybody_ though. There were hundreds of people who died in the final battle. I should know. I'm the one who helped take them off the field and lay them where they wouldn't be harmed any more. I, at the moment, could be thinking about anybody, but I'm only thinking of one person.

Well, ok two people I suppose.

The Weasley twins.

I probably never showed much thought for them, except when it came to Quidditch. But they still invited me to the funeral. Do I want to go? Maybe. I don't know if I can though. I'm sure Everyone will be there. They'll all say the same thing to Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, '_I'm sorry about Fred. He was a good boy..'_

I don't know what I'm going to say.

If I go, that is.

I've never had a good memory. I probably can't even remember what I felt like in my first year, as I was being put under the Sorting Hat. Scared probably. But I can still remember the first time I met the twins. I was in my third year at the time, and from the day they came into Hogwarts, to the day they left. They hadn't changed one bit.

In my fourth year, they decided to try out for the Quidditch team. They were good, but everyone knew that they were trouble makers.

"They won't take the team seriously! They'll probably leave us hanging one time, just for a joke!" said Robert Fretikora, who had been one of our chasers.

I remember thinking that Robert was probably right. Why would they take Quidditch seriously. They _had _taken everything else as a joke. But they had out flown (quite literally) everyone else who had tried out!

"They wouldn't do that", reassured Angelina Johnson, "They're in my year, and sure, they joke around, but they're very loyal to their friends. What do you think, Oliver?"

They all looked at me, and I said, "We'll see…"

Later that day, while I was walking back to the common room, I heard a voice. It was easily audible, but gentle none the less.

"What's your name?"

There was a little sniffle, "Mary…"

Another voice, "Well, don't worry about McGonagall. She's nice, umm deep down inside.."

"Yeah. Waaay deep", said a voice laughing.

Finally, the little girl laughed too, "You're right... thanks"

The little girl walked away, and I quickly looked to see two boys, waving good-bye to her.

It was Fred and George.

The next day I announced the two new beaters for our team. I never regretted my choice.

But now, at 21, I'm starting to see what that really meant. Deep down, we all have different ways people see us. And in times like these, we have to forget about how someone looked to us in the past, and see how they are now.

I decided to go to the funeral.

But first, I had something I needed to do.

Hogwarts looked just about the same as when I was here.

Except for the broken windows, littered grounds, and the chilling thought that something was following you.

Pleasant, huh?

But I knew exactly where I was going. It was nighttime, so I had to be careful where I walked. I went up the front gate, and into the room I knew so well. I carefully opened the box in the middle of the room, and took something from it. I hid it in my cloak, although I don't know why. It's not like anyone was here with me or any-

"Hello Oliver."

Oh my…I turned around slowly thinking to myself, "Oh…my good! I'm going to die. I'm going to die!!"

There stood a rather amused looking McGonagall.

I felt myself relaxing and couldn't help but say, "I'm going to have nightmares for the rest of my life…"

She merely looked at me and said, "What do you have there?"

Busted! "Umm…nothing?" I showed both my hands, but she did the summoning charm.

She took the 'object' from me, and said, "Hmm…is this yours?"

"Please Professor. I need that, badly. I-I'll get Hogwarts another one! Anything, just.."

She looked at it, and said, "But, this is the wrong one. Surely you want the one from his first match, no?"

I guess the twins were right. McGonagall was nice. Deep down..

I dressed pretty simply, and walked on the soft, damp ground. It had rained the day before, and the sun above us was shinning brightly. Almost in a mocking sort of way. I clutched the thing I was carrying in my hand tightly. Did I still want to go through with this?

Definitely.

I walked up to the coffin, and bit my lip. It was sort of a dull ache in my stomach, seeing him there. So _still. _

"Hey..", said someone next to me.

I jumped. I hadn't seen anyone there! I looked sideways, and gasped. There was George ( He _did _loose an ear!!). But he looked so sad. I don't think I've ever seen him so beaten down.

"Hi George", I said carefully. I didn't want to say anything too stupid.

He looked down at my hand, "What's that?"

I took it out, "Just something for him to remember me by.." I said holding the Quidditch beater bat into better view.

George looked shocked, "H-how did you? Is that..?" he grinned.

His eyes got a little watery and said, "Thank-you Oliver", and he gave me a hug and left.

I looked at Fred again, braver now.

"You know, I never got to properly thank you for giving me my dream of winning the Hogwarts cup. You said I'd never be able to thank you", I waved the bat a little, "Well, guess what? I think this will cover it."

And that's when I realized. I wasn't sad anymore. I looked around, and saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with George, who was pointing at me, and _smiling. _They all were.

Somehow, I had helped them get through this. For now at least. And they would help each other. They still were a family, and not even death could take that away from them. But now was the moment I had come here for.

I then placed the-_his- _bat next to him, and said with a smile, "For the best damn beater Hogwarts has ever seen. See you later Fred."

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